The Phrase “Golden Years” is a Relative Term

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Over the holidays, I was perusing through Facebook while sitting by the fire. I belong to a Facebook group devoted strictly to Road America, where readers post photos from present-day, as well as the past; and written posts about their personal memories of the track that has been operating since 1955. Unlike other groups, this is a very civilized, well-mannered and knowledgeable group.

Like any other venue that age, there have been multiple changes to the appearance and infrastructure of the facility over the years. I came across a post that featured this photo of the Road America Pagoda that sat overlooking the south end of the pits (pit-out), before it was intentionally burned, then razed in early 1990.

RA - Pagoda1

I was going through the comments and saw where one person simply said “It was so much better back then”. Seeing as how this is one of my favorite tracks for so many reasons, I responded with this: “I’m not being snarky, just curious – what was so much better then? I’ve been going every year for the past ten years and love it there. What was better then?”

A few people chimed in agreeing with me, while others came up with things like there used to be more trees, or they have put up too many safety fences. One said they should have kept the Pagoda. From what I understand, the Pagoda was kept around too long and had fallen into a state of disrepair.

They really gave no concrete reason why 1975 was so much better than 2025 at Road America. That set me to thinking how racing fans love to hearken back to the good old days, or the golden years.

All sports fans look back at whenever they discovered a certain sport, as the greatest time-period for that sport. They like to think that things were so much better back then. I first started paying attention to football in the mid-to-late 60s. My first football heroes were Roman Gabriel, and Bart Starr. You can imagine how excited I was to get to see Starr up-close and in-person in 2012, when he was the Grand Marshal for the IndyCar race at Barber Motorsports Park.

It was the 1970s when I became all-consumed with football. I still like to think that Roger Staubach, Tony Dorsett, Terry Bradshaw and Lynn Swann were the greatest players to ever suit up in the NFL. When I think about it logically, I realize there were so many great players that were just as good or even much better that cane along decades later. But that time seemed magic to me, because I was so enthralled and fascinated with football back in the 70s.

Of all the sports across the spectrum, I think racing fans may be the most guilty of recalling the golden years, as whenever they started following their respective sport. The 1979 Daytona 500 took place on a weekend much like this past weekend – when much of the country was snowbound. With few viewing options in those days, it was fateful that the Daytona 500 was being broadcast live for the very first time. Millions who had never seen a NASCAR race tuned in.

They were treated by a fistfight on the backstretch immediately after the race (won by Richard Petty), between the Allison brothers and Cale Yarborough. To many, this was the beginning of their NASCAR fandom. That is why so many look at the late 70s and early 80s as the golden age of NASCAR. Whether it was or wasn’t – that is their perception and no one will convince them otherwise.

I am guilty of the same thought process. I was first exposed to IndyCar racing through my older brothers, when my father took them to the 1964 Indianapolis 500. With the stories they told and the programs and souvenirs they brought back, I became enthralled with the sport. The next year, my mother and I were included in the trip. From the moment I first laid eyes on the track, the cars and the entire spectacle – I knew I was hooked, even though I was only six years-old.

From that first visit in 1965, through the mid-70s, I ate and breathed the Indianapolis 500. Consequently, I still look at the late 60s and early 70s as the golden age of IndyCar. Being a generation older and born in 1926, my father tended to think of the era of Wilbur Shaw and Mauri Rose as the golden age. Why? Because that was the time when he first became aware of the Indianapolis 500.

In my own life, I sort of view IndyCar as having two golden ages – simply due to getting reintroduced to the sport I had loved once before.

I started college in the fall of 1976. Being five hours from home, I no longer had access to any of my collection of programs and newspapers collected over the past decade or so. Tennessee was on the quarter system back then, so we didn’t get out of school for the summer until mid-June. I remember sitting in my dorm room over Memorial Day weekend, listening to the entire 1977 500, when AJ Foyt won his fourth, but that was the last time I listened to the radio broadcast in its entirety.

Beginning in 1978, I would just catch the delayed TV broadcast on ABC not knowing who had won. There was no social media for spoilers, and none of my friends paid attention to it. So it was easy to go into each delayed broadcast blindly. After graduating college and throughout the 80s, I found myself getting more and more detached from IndyCar. My last 500 to attend in person was in 1972, when Mark Donohue won.

By the mid-80s, most of the drivers I grew up with had retired or been fatally injured in racing. There were still enough familiar names like Foyt, Andretti, Unser, Rutherford and Johncock, to keep me watching once a year. Even some second-generation drivers were arriving on the scene. But there were names like Mears, Rahal, Sullivan and Sneva that were the big names of the time, that I had little knowledge about.

In 1990, I was married and a new father of two. I had recently moved back to my hometown of Jackson, TN, less than five miles from the house I grew up in. My father came out and we watched the 1990 race in its entirety. My father was intrigued that there still a few names he was familiar with, but he didn’t like it that the long-haired guy with the funny name (Arie Luyendyk) had won.

For whatever reason, that race stoked a dormant fire in my passion for IndyCar. I began to watch other races throughout that season. When the 1991 race aired, I sat there with my VCR remote and paused the recording at each commercial. I recorded it on the SP speed, which meant I had to use two cassettes, but the picture would be the highest quality. Remember those days?

I’ll bet I watched that race at least five times over the next two weeks, In mid-June of that summer, my wife (at the time) and I drove to Chicago to visit with friends. On the way back, I suggested that we stop by the track. I had not set foot on the grounds in almost twenty years, and I wanted to see it again. We went through the museum for the first time ever, and took the track tour. The pit wall still had the driver’s name painted on them (and yes, they were painted in those days).

It was a life-changing visit. The bug bit me. On the way home, we were already talking about trying to attend the 1992 race. We didn’t have a lot of money them , but I could feel the overwhelming urge to attend, no matter what. The following February, I called a ticket broker and overpaid for excellent seats in the Tower Terrace, north of Gasoline Alley but south of the Yard of Bricks. My wife exploded when I told her how much I paid, but I convinced her this was a one-time event. As it turned out, it was my first 500 since 1972, but it would become an annual thing for decades – and long after she was out of the picture.

I began recording every race that season and keeping them to re-watch the following week. Then I found myself watching those tapes in the offseason. From mid-1991, up until The Split in 1996, I recorded and kept every race on video – a collection I still have to this very day.

I tell that story that is already familiar to some, to demonstrate how a single person can actually view two eras as a golden age. I consider the 60s & 70s as a golden age, when names like Andretti, Foyt, Unser, Rutherford and Johncock were all in their prime. But I also look at the early to mid-90s as a second golden age. A few of those names were still around,. But they were on their way out. They were replaced by Michael Andretti, Al Unser, Jr, Mears, Rahal, Fittipaldi, Tracy, Luyendyk and others.

Recently, I have seen comments on social media where younger fans predict that the age of Scott Dixon, Dario Franchitti, Will Power, Josef Newgarden and Helio Castroneves will someday be referred to as IndyCar’s golden age. When I first read that, I chuckled. But the names I grew up with are mythical to today’s generations of fans. These are the names they know and are the ones they consider iconic. Who am I to argue with them?

Just like the guy who yearned for the Road America of 1975. I can’t relate to that. Although I watched races there on television for years, my point of reference there begins in 2016. To me, these times we are in currently are the golden years at Road America. You will have a difficult time convincing me otherwise.

George Phillips

6 Responses to “The Phrase “Golden Years” is a Relative Term”

  1. billytheskink's avatar
    billytheskink Says:

    Nostalgia will always be a powerful thing for most fans… perhaps too powerful in the case of some who fall away because the sport doesn’t look like it used to or is not in the cultural position it once was. Some decry nostalgia because of that or because they believe it prevents the sport from progressing, but I think that may be just as unfair. One can be interested in and appreciate the past without doing so at the expense of the present, a balance that the late great Robin Miller always pulled off so well.

    Guys like Dixon, Newgarden, Power, and Palou will surely be remembered well by the sport’s fans for many years after they retire. The great thing about the Foyt-Unser-Andretti-Rutherford-Johncock-Mears-etc. generation was not just its longevity, but the intense competition within it. These drivers had to beat each other year after year to reach all of their great accomplishments, so too is it with the current stars.

  2. I think everyone is a bit nostalgic when it comes to the sports they love. To me, the golden years would have to be the ’60s and ’70s. But my mind tells me to wonder about how an A.J. Foyt, Mario Andretti, or Al Unser Sr. would do in today’s faster, safer, and technologically advanced Indycar era. I just don’t see A.J. banging on his car in the pits with a hammer with today’s cars.

    I would love to take a Parnelli Jones or a Dan Gurney in their prime to race against the likes of Scott Dixon or Will Power. Who would win? We will never know. But I think I would still be pulling for Lloyd Ruby to get the win….

  3. Well said on the Golden Years, George. Do I long for the 70s and 80s at IMS, sure do. Do I think today’s racing fan would like it? Not so sure. There were long stretches of zero activity on the track – I remember a year after a first weekend rainout, the second Saturday of qualifying was one car after another. Friends were enthralled, it was fun to see 20+ cars qualify when we were used to 10-15 a day. Do I wish we would go back to allowing for some quiet time on the speakers? Absolutely, do we need music, commercials, flashbacks, etc…all day long? I don’t think so. Do I like today? Yes I do. Improvements at places like IMS and Road America are super. Improvements in restrooms, accessibility, concessions, viewing areas, video boards, to name a few are what help keep people coming back. Would my daughters like to go to IMS or Road America with the old restrooms? Would the old outhouses still be considered acceptable? I don’t think it is too much to ask for a clean restroom. Did the new walkways at Road America remove some trees? Yes. I still believe these are welcome improvements. Besides the fact that RA is planting new trees too, there is so much more safe access to areas that either were inaccessible or unsafe. I think you are right in many regards about how people remember things. Is Road America the RA of my youth? Nope, but it does not have to be either for me to enjoy it and want to bring new fans to Elkhart Lake. As you say, change is bad; however, evolution of racing series and race tracks is something we expect and need to adjust to. I was watching an old Kelly American race at RA awhile back, looking at the inside of turn 1, there is no viewing there, just corner workers; now we can go over there and experience the braking into that turn. I laugh about the complaint regarding too much fencing. If I remember correctly, Lindsay Brewer road the wall/fence at the entrance to turn 5 in an IndyPro car a few years ago, without that fence, her car is over that wall into the spectator area IMHO. That seems like a bad situation. I’ve read some of the complaints about Road America, yet they seem to keep going back. So many are complaining about the new bridge and the updates to the North Paddock that is going on right now. I’m reading the same complaints about the Rolex 24 – nothing DIS or IMSA has done is an improvement to anyone on Facebook. I’m sure some of the changes at tracks or in series are based on squeezing more profit out of it; but I’m fairly certain that the leaders of those tracks and series are not actively trying to implement changes that irritate fans/customers. I can’t imagine that the board at Road America was thinking, “you know what would irritate them the most, replacing an aging narrow bridge with a modern new one. Let’s do it.” The days are getting longer, racing seasons are starting up, it won’t be long before we go to our favorite race tracks and have ball! For that I’m excited.

  4. Talon De Brea's avatar
    Talon De Brea Says:

    Golden Years, indeed.

    First race (Sebring) was 1961 (do we tend to forget Phil Hill?), and I remember listening to Indy in 1963 on a transistor radio and riding my bike crazily around the block, trying to envision the Speedway, wondering what kind of name “Parnelli” was, anyway. When I got a subscription to Car and Driver for my ninth birthday, things went up a gear (or two).

    My most obsessive years were 1969-1972 (started getting Auto Week in ’69). Then Indy 1973 tempered my enthusiasm a bit, and going away to college — away from my hoarded racing books, magazines and programs, as George mentioned — changed my life in a big way for a few years).

    As the ever-too-civil-for-the-internet billytheskink says, nostalgia is certainly powerful. I spent much of my pandemic months scouring the internet for photos and write-ups of every race I had attended, and many I hadn’t, across different disciplines. And the nostalgia was certainly intense … for who I was then, more than anything else, I realize. But for the rapidly evolving cars, the great and not-so-great tracks and the lost drivers, as well.

    While it documents a sports car race, the 1964 Road America 500 on YouTube is worth a search and a look for fans of the track (the unpaved pit lane!), Roger Penske, Jim Hall, Chaparral and Corvette Grand Sport … and mid-60s American racing in general. It is so interesting to see Roger as I first saw him — a young alpha driver behind the wheel of a “futuristic” Chaparral and a lightweight Corvette. Also search “A lap with Roger Penske – Road America in 1964.”

    Oh, also: I don’t miss tape-delay coverage of big events, and trying to avoid finding out results too soon. Speaking of Indy 1977, George: Sitting down in prime time with my parents to watch the (taped) 500, the local station announcer’s lead-in was “A.J. Foyt wins record fourth Indy 500 — news and sports at 11:00.” Thanks. Thanks so much for that …

  5. Well, speaking as someone who attended Road America off and on from 1986 to 2016, one improvement I can cite is it was cheaper to attend a race at the track in the old days.

    For Ex: In 1989 my college roommate and I drove from Directional State U to my parent’s home in Chicagoland, stayed overnight, and drove up to Road America for the Texaco Havoline 200. For the princely sum of $20 a General Admission ticket we parked, pulled out our homemade lunches, and watched Danny Sullivan win the race while sitting on two folding chairs pulled out of the garage.

    I put that $20 in the old Inflation Calculator and it comes up roughly $52 in 2024 money. A quick trip to the Road America website has me handing over $80 for a GA ticket for 2025.

    Now, I am not a babe in the woods and understand prices go up. But still. Also, I understand the St. John the Baptist stand is gone, and that is a true shame (got to eat there once or twice).

    Another thing was the differences in chassis and engine packages that showed up. Marches, Lolas, Penskes, Fords, Chevrolets, even Buicks (they usually ran at the back at Road America).

    At least I can still bring a grill, some drinks, and my own food and cook out while the race is going on. 👍

    • Let’s face it, it was “cheaper” to attend most things in the old days. A ticket to the Fiesta Bowl for what was the national championship game on Jan 1, 1989 could be had for $35. It is minimally 10 times that now. Yes the St. John’s stand is now run by a local BBQ place. St. John’s noted in an article that they could not get enough volunteers anymore to staff the stand and had to give it up. I wish it was still run by them, but I cannot force people to volunteer either. See you at the races!

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